


Flagellum Solis

by darkdragonwriter (Ziven)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Angst, Hints of Puzzleshipping, M/M, Post-Canon, Unrequited, Yuugi bunching under the covers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-11
Updated: 2010-11-11
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziven/pseuds/darkdragonwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Post canon] Men shut their doors against a setting sun. -implied Puzzleshipping, Yuugi x Yami-</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flagellum Solis

**Author's Note:**

> Edited 9/24/11.
> 
> This was very, very short. And the summary is a quote from William Shakespeare.
> 
> In any case, I think that there's a lot of emotion involved here, and if someone wants to take this plot bunny and do something with it they certainly can.
> 
> "I will return, for I am the darkness..."

**Flagellum Solis \- "Scourge of the Sun"**

It wasn't hard to make the correlation. The one who had brought them all together; the one who had, in essence, made everything work. The King of Games—he was the one that children clamored for, even in this day and age where enthusiasm for cards was waning. He was the one whose face was plastered on old dueling videos.

Yuugi had defeated him. Now he—that shining light on the horizon, the glimmer of the Puzzle—was gone. And so had Yuugi.

A knock sounded upon his door. Yuugi stirred in the darkness, but he did not rise. _The blinds…_ He didn't know who was at the door, but the knocking persisted. He would have shouted, but he could taste the hoarseness that had taken hold of his throat while he'd slept; he would have croaked if he had tried to say anything.

Yuugi had lost his sense of time. He was not aware how many hours—or days—he'd spent sleeping, clutching the Puzzle around his neck and hoping for a sliver of the man he loved to whisper to him. He turned over on the bed and his cheeks felt like cracking paint. Had he been crying in his sleep, too? The puzzle was eerily silent—he was sure that if he lifted it, it would somehow weigh less in his hands.

"Yuugi!" he heard, and the knocking became pounding. "I know you're here! Please!" The small male couldn't identify the speaker. Whoever it was, friend or family, they blended together; they were all the same: _not Yami_. The beating on the door was incessant, but Yuugi found it easy to ignore; his senses were already dulled. He swallowed the prickly feeling on his tongue and the morning breath with it, picking up what broken shards of himself the Pharaoh—Atem—had left in his wake. He curled around the fragmented mirror and forced his own breaths to become shallow; to sleep.

He wouldn't bare the sight of naked skies during the sunrise.


End file.
